Pet Therapy

For 26 years, every birthday and Christmas I wanted one thing. A pet. Really I wanted a dog but I knew I was pushing my luck. I aimed smaller. A hamster maybe. A rabbit. Anything! My family are not pet people. The answer was always no. Yet every Christmas Eve I secretly held onto the hope that THIS would be the year it’d happen – I’d finally get the pet I always wanted. 

When I became ill it was clear that I was unable to clean out a hamster cage or take a dog for a walk. My parents had enough on their plates looking after me and so I hoped my siblings would say they’d look after a pet for me and I could just cash in all of the cuddles I’d craved. Alas, no. 
Along came Mr Tree Surgeon…
The mega-hutch! Used for only a couple of hours as they have become house guinea pigs…
Meet Popcorn…
…and Delores.
None of us like the noise of the hoover so we hide away together.

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